Daily rants, raves, and regurgitation of my weird life as a writer/mom/small dog technician, foodie, and movie nut.

June 18, 2019

June is Pride month and if you have to ask what that means, you probably don’t have friends or relatives or colleagues who are gay, bi, or trans. I do. I am very happy to see the huge change that has come about just in my lifetime because for me the issue isn’t academic or even purely political, it’s personal.

No, I am not gay, bi, or trans. I would say so if that were the case, however. I wouldn’t hide it.

Things are so much better now than they used to be.

My mother grew up with three first cousins who were gay. One of them spent his life in a mental hospital. One died young of a heart attack. One of them became an alcoholic, then homeless. One of those men (the one who died from alcoholism) was like a brother to Mom, and they spent a lot of time together growing up.

There was a rift in that branch of Mom’s family when I was a child and for many years Mom didn’t speak to any of these men or their mothers, who were her aunts. The family feud had nothing to do with being gay. It was a dispute over a will. However, Mom was very upset when she found out the harsh fate of her cousin who died homeless.

Sadly, in the bad old days many gay men used to be rejected by their families and were forced to live in secrecy and shame. Many places had laws against homosexual sex. Women were not treated as harshly but there was still a terrible stigma attached to being gay in America.

There are places in the world where there is not only still a stigma, gay people are imprisoned and even put to death simply for being gay. A recent CNN article spells it out:

“70 UN member states still criminalize same-sex relations between two consenting adults... In 26 of those countries, the penalty varies from 10 years in prison to life.”

Earlier this year, in Iran, a gay man was hanged, simply for being gay.

Richard Grenell, our ambassador to Germany (a Trump appointee) is an openly gay man. He is pushing for worldwide de-criminalization of homosexuality. You can learn more about it here.

It’s mind-boggling to me that in 2019 there are still places so backward that gay people can be imprisoned or hanged.

Here in America we have made great strides in being a more tolerant nation, but we still have room for improvement.

I have a very close friend who is gay. I’ll call him Greg. We have been friends for 38 years. Greg waited until he was in his 30’s to tell his parents he was gay, because they attended a church where being gay was viewed as a sin. Thankfully, Greg’s parents were loving to him when he came out to them. They said they had known for a long time and it didn’t change their love for him.

I won’t reveal my friend’s name here in this blog, though, because he is a teacher. If he were openly gay he could lose his job, even now. He is a wonderful teacher and his students love him. They likely have no idea he is gay. He doesn’t advertise it. He is out to his friends but quiet about it professionally.

He fears so-called “Christians” and he fears losing his job, which is very sad.

I saw a recent post on Facebook that was a quote saying if you are a good Christian you shouldn’t be mean to someone just because you disapprove of their “lifestyle.”

There’s the crux of the problem. Many people think being gay is a choice or a lifestyle. Even though it’s not, anti-gay prejudice and intolerance are revealed when someone talks about a “lifestyle.”

Greg and I talked about it years ago. “Why would CHOOSE to be gay, Dee?” he said, his voice full of pain and anguish. “I would never choose to be ostracized or even reviled. Nobody would choose that! I fought with myself for years before I finally accepted who I am. Things are much better now, but it’s never been easy.”

I won’t try to wade into the morass of conflicting information out there about whether or not being gay is a choice, but I will say this. Every one of my gay friends and family members feels like they were born gay, and they figured it out from an early age, well before puberty. A truly bisexual person might choose to ignore any same-sex attractions but that doesn’t mean those attractions don’t exist.

There really shouldn’t be a debate about it as far as I’m concerned. It’s really nobody’s business who any adult loves.

Gay marriage is not about endorsing anything. It’s about civil rights. Period. Notice how straight people are STILL getting married, and gay marriage hasn't done one iota of harm, as opponents of gay marriage said it would?

I know some folks in my mother’s generation will say “Well why do they have to flaunt being gay? They’re too in your face about it. It’s offensive.”

Um, if they were dressing up in brightly colored clothes and carrying signs saying they love God and they want everyone to know it would you say the same thing, Grandma?

I bet not.

I know I am going to make people made with this post. I don’t care. I think a hundred years from now humans will look back on this time and shake their heads, aghast that there was even a debate about gay rights – just like we wonder why anyone would think slavery is okay. Yet, in 1860 there were a lot of Americans who thought slavery was just fine. They held up the bible and pointed to the verse saying slaves should obey their masters.

You can use the bible to justify just about anything.

Nowhere in the bible is the word "homosexual" used because it was unknown then. It wasn't coined until the 19th century. Nothing was known about sexual preference in biblical days. They did condemn sodomy -- and rightly so -- because in those days men would rape little boys and animals and it was a widespread practice, so of course it was condemned. They weren't talking about sex between consenting adults. If you don't study the cultural and historical context of the time in which the bible was written, you are really misunderstanding the bible.

I should say here that the only church I will ever be a member of is the Episcopal Church and we have been loving our gay brothers and sisters for decades. We have had a gay bishop, Gene Robinson. We don't judge. We interpret the admonitions about spreading the gospel to mean spread the LOVE -- not the judgment.

Here’s the one verse in the bible that actually matters, in my view. I don’t think it’s even arguable:

John 15:12: “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you." Notice he didn't say judge, or condemn, or just tolerate. He said LOVE. That’s the active verb. That verb is the only one that matters.

I am proud that my gay brothers and sisters can be proud of themselves now. Go love who you want to love!

June 15, 2019

When I started researching adoption in 2003 I didn't realize I was starting a journey that would produce not just the family I'd always wanted, but also friendships that would sustain me. I had no idea of any of that. All I knew was that I had visited an orphanage and seen a little girl that I knew in my heart was my daughter.

Shortly after she came home I realized my daughter needed a sibling, and I started researching adoptable children in Russian speaking countries, because I wanted Alesia to be able to help me teach English to a younger sibling. Teaching her had been quite a challenge, simply because I didn't realize that she had a learning disability.

Michael came home in May 2007 and Alesia was a great tutor and sibling to him.

Michael was from Kazakhstan, a country I had only vaguely heard of that day in 2005 when I spotted his photo on the adoption agency website. I was working in the legal department of a hotel company at that time and I had to go examine the world map to figure out where he was.

Kazakhstan is a fascinating country. It's situated east of Europe, right under Russia, and west of China. For centuries, traders between Europe and China traveled across the vast plains of Kazakhstan on a trade route known as The Silk Road.

Sometime around the time I adopted Michael I "met" another adoptive mom who had adopted a little 6 year old girl from Kazakhstan. Although she lives in California and her background is totally different from mine, I liked Judy immediately. She is smart, funny, and she writes a blog. She lives in California, but a few years ago she bought an apartment in New York and she stays there part of every year and sees Broadway shows, goes to museums, etc. I always enjoy reading her blog about all her varied and fun activities.

Although it may sound like a peculiar friendship, my relationship with Judy has always been one of mutual respect and affection. We don't always agree politically, but we agree about a lot of important things.

Judy is one of the few people I can talk to about raising an adopted child who came home not as a baby, but as a fully-formed little human.

Raising a child who has come out of an orphanage and is older than 6 when they are adopted is quite a challenge. Judy has had challenges with her daughter and I have had some with Michael. We both love our children, and we have tried hard to help them. Other parents are great sources of wisdom when it comes to biological children, but they really don't understand the challenges Judy and I have faced.

Most children who live in chaotic birth homes with parents who neglect them carry that emotional scars of that for the rest of their lives. Ditto for kids who spend their earliest years in an orphanage, like Judy's daughter. Our kids didn't have as early examples parents who loved and nurtured them, who protected them from harm and showed them what it's like to cope with adversity in healthy ways. My son watched his birthmom cope with trouble by drinking. Right after he came home he picked up a bottle of perfume on my dresser, smelled it, and said in Russian "My mother used to drink this for the alcohol." [My daughter translated.] I was shocked.

Most kids like my son and Judy's daughter go through periods of hard rebellion when they become teenagers - more rebellious that biological children, usually. It's terrifying to watch, as a parent. Judy's daughter pushed the limits. Michael put me through a lot. Both children are doing well now, though. Judy's daughter is thriving in college, and Michael is headed back to college in the Fall. Our children are smart, resilient, and able to give and receive love. I am so proud of them.

Judy just learned the other day that she has Stage 4 colon cancer. There is a tumor on her colon and it's inoperable. The day she told me that, Wednesday, I cried off and on for most of the day.

You're probably thinking that's weird. I have never actually sat across from Judy and chatted. We've never met in person. I've never shared a meal with her. Yet, I feel like I am losing a member of my family.

I also am constantly berating myself for thinking there's no hope. There is always hope. Miracles do happen, all the time. Ask any doctor or nurse who has more than a few years of experience.

A few months ago I finished a book called Dying To Be Me, by Anita Moorjani. She had terminal cancer and actually died from it, in the hospital. Her soul left her body. She writes about it very articulately. Excerpt:

"I didn't feel as though I'd physically gone somewhere else -- it was more as though I'd awakened. Perhaps I'd finally been roused from a bad dream... What I can only describe as superb and glorious unconditional love surrounded me, wrapping me tight as I continued to let go... Love, joy, ecstasy and awe poured into me, through me, and engulfed me. I was enveloped in more love than I ever knew existed. I felt more free and alive than I ever had... I suddenly knew things that weren't physically possible, such as the conversations between medical staff and my family that were taking place far away from my hospital bed."

Anita goes on to talk about time in the other realm isn't linear, it's simultaneous, and how she was able to make contact with her deceased father and best friend. She felt such joy and peace in the other realm. She came out of the coma eventually, and her cancer completely went away.

I gave the book to my mother to read and she, too, found it fascinating. I love this idea: If you want to know about the journey, ask someone on the way back. By coming back and sharing her journey with the world, Anita Moorjani has helped countless people to not fear death. I don't fear it. I don't want anyone I love to fear it. It's simply a transition.

I kept thinking about my father's 1996 cancer diagnosis, when I heard from Judy the other day. He had been in such a lot of pain and yet I knew that when he died, the pain would be gone and he would enter into the blissful state Anita describes. Whether Judy is facing the last months of her life or it's simply a very scary bump in the road and she will recover, I feel peaceful. Her life is about to change dramatically, either way.

If Judy is dying, I will miss her friendship terribly. I hope I will also be able to rejoice, though, because she will be out of pain and in a state of peace that I can only imagine. One day our spirits will meet in person and I will rejoice in seeing my old friend, and hug her. One day our Kazakh children will meet, whether in this life or the next.

I am still finding myself crying, at odd moments, for reasons I cannot fully articulate. I don't want Judy to be in pain. I don't wish it on her family either. I am anticipating missing her, and she is not gone yet -- and I am a little angry at myself for pre-grieving. I am also sad that I never got to visit Judy in California, and she probably doesn't feel like traveling, now.

I comfort myself by picturing this: Judy and I sitting and looking out at the ocean, drinking something cold, and talking about our kids, our passions, our lives -- and laughing. So much healing and love comes in the form of laughter. One day it will happen, whether in this life or the next.

March 21, 2018

Well, life can take mysterious turns sometimes. I thought things were moving pretty well in my life, and then got hit with the news that my son Michael, who is 21, has to have 4 impacted wisdom teeth removed.

It started about a week ago. He complained of pain when he drank something cold. His teeth have always been temp sensitive so I didn't give it much thought. By Friday, the pain had increased dramatically, though, to the point where I called the dentist, frantic to get him seen. They saw him Monday morning. When we saw the oral surgeon yesterday, we had to get prescription pain medication. He is still miserable. Can barely open his mouth to eat, and can't really chew.

Once the wisdom teeth come out, I think we will have to head back to the dentist to get an older cavity replaced, which has some infection beneath it.

Fun.

We will head to the grocery store later today to stock up on soft foods.

However, it could always be worse. I spoke last night to a good friend whose dad passed away last weekend. He was 94, and it wasn't a surprise, but she was very close to her parents and she is understandably upset. I never knew until I saw the obituary that he went to Richmond Academy about the same time as my uncle, and he was a highly decorated World War II veteran who fought in Patton's Third Army. I should have introduced him to my dad years ago -- my dad loved all military history but especially World War II. We are losing more of the "greatest generation" every day.

Spring is busting out all over, as they say, and my old apple tree in the back yard is heavy with blooms. My fig trees have buds on them. The azaleas are blooming. The high today is only going to be 50, so we are still in for some chilly weather. I hope all the blooms don't die.

My fundraiser to make the documentary film about Comfort Farms is still going. PLEASE take a look and like the page, and share it with as many people as possible, in an email, or a Facebook post. We are only 12% funded. Thanks!

March 16, 2018

It's been a while since I posted on here, but I was waiting so I could share some exciting news. Lots going on in my world, most of it good!

As I wrote about back in January, I am passionately involved in helping my friends over at Comfort Farm to get the word out about the wonderful work they do with veterans and the wonderful organic produce and heritage meats they grow.

A wonderful online magazine, The Cook's Cook, just posted my article Veterans Find Strength and Healing at Comfort Farms. Of all the articles I have ever written, for online or print publications, I am most proud of this one, for several reasons. One, I wholeheartedly believe in Jon Jackson and the incredible work he does at Comfort Farms. Two, I spent a lot of time trying to craft a really impactful article, and discuss not just the veteran aspect but the aspects of organic, sustainable produce, community involvement with the farm, and the importance of knowing where your meat comes from and how it is raised. Three, the editor told me the article needed no editing. (Perhaps only another writer would understand how rare that is!)

I was also delighted to see that my neighbor and friend Carlisle Kellam wrote a terrific piece about visiting Comfort Farms and taking the wonderful photos for the article. Check out Making a Connection at Comfort Farms. Carlisle has many talents, including being a terrific writer, as well as photographer and filmmaker.

Carlisle and I often see each other out walking around in the neighborhood -- him walking his little boys and me walking my dog Lola -- and when I got involved with Comfort Farms I wanted to get him involved, too. We spitballed the idea of making a documentary about Jon's journey to start and grow Comfort Farms itself, which is a remarkable story of faith and perseverance.

After discussing it a bit we decided to go for it. Carlisle has experience making documentaries, and that's critical. I have experience writing films (from years ago, although I was never great at it) but more importantly I could contribute by producing the film. My role is in the background, raising money and finding place to show the film.

So here's the exciting part. YOU can be a part of the documentary! Click on THIS PAGE and read about the documentary and you can buy a cool tee shirt or sweatshirt or mug with the Comfort Farms logo, or you can simply contribute towards helping us pay for the documentary.

Carlisle is donating his time, and so am I, but to do it right he will need to hire and pay a crew, and then there are fees to enter it into film festivals all over the country.

The aim of making it, of course, is to bring attention to Comfort Farms and hopefully encourage folks to donate, plus encourage them to buy foods from Comfort Farms. Jon has a lot of great plans for Comfort Farms.

If money is tight but you still want to be a part of things, check out the Comfort Farms Documentary Facebook page, or the Comfort Farm community page.

I hope to be able to post soon that we raised all the money for the film and are shooting footage!

Finally, I wanted to let everyone know that Comfort Farms is hosting a very cool event in a few weeks, a Boucherie. Here's more about it, from Jon:

On April the 14th and 15th we are holding our First annual Le Pied Du Mont Boucherie Festival. It's a an educational Fundraiser to bring the community together to see the talent of our Veterans, Farmers, Butchers and Chefs work together to educate the public on the importance of supporting local. The $150 ticket covers two people and will give you a share in all of the livestock, farm produce, wine and craft beer tasting along with the low Country boil and Boucherie. It works out to approximately $35 a day for each person to attend. If you ever wanted to experience the ins and out of farm life and the see first hand the hard work of what our veterans, chefs, farmers and butchers do everyday... This is the event for you. From making sausage, porchetta, fresh crackling and roasted lamb over an open fire pit paired with seasonal veggies from the Dirt Farmers and wine from our region... You will be immersed in to an atmosphere of education that taps into all of your senses. Primitive camping is allowed. This is a zero waste event designed to utilize everything the event has to offer to include using biodegradable plates and sporks that can be turned into work food. Purchase your tickets today and we look forward to seeing you at our 2018 Le Pied Du Mont Boucherie Festival!

February 27, 2018

Have you ever talked to a friend and thought wow, I would HATE to have her life! I had that experience last night. I had a phone chat with a friend I haven't seen or spoken to in many months, although we have been friends for nearly 20 years.

I only got a call back from her because she was in the car headed home from working out at the gym. She works 40-60 hours a week at a law office, and works out every day.

She lives in midtown, walking distance to the Fox Theatre. I would love to be able to walk to the Fox. However, when she was pulling her car into the lot behind her condo she was annoyed at having to wait a couple of minutes while a guy standing right on front of her car took his time peeing.

EEUW.

Compared to her, I live in the country. It's suburban Atlanta, inside the perimeter, but comparatively? The country. I saw a rabbit in my back yard last night when I let Lola out to tinkle. Lola wanted to chase the rabbit. Holding her back from that was fun. I've seen foxes, possums, coyotes -- in my back yard.

She can walk to fancy, expensive restaurants, to museums, to theaters. She lives smack dab in the heart of everything the city has to offer, and in Atlanta that's quite a lot. I can't do that, but I don't want to.

She is going to have to continue to work the punishing hours, at a high-stress job, for the next 15 years or more, to be able to retire and live at the same high standard she has now. I started to feel sorry for her, after we hung up and I reflected on that. Then I thought about it some more and realized wait a minute, she is very smart, very educated. If she WANTED to change jobs, to get out of the city, to get away from all that stress, she could totally do it. Her child is grown. Her car is paid for. She bought her condo years ago and I doubt the payments are that bad. She is working those awful hours and putting herself through that stress because she WANTS to. There is something holding her to that, and deep down she likes what she does.

I cannot fathom it. Then again, she asked me about my life and what I do all day, and I told her about caring for Mother, Lola, and Michael, and her response was "I don't know how you do that. I couldn't do it."

I started to chuckle but I realized she was being serious.

I used to think I wanted to travel. Ireland, Scotland, Japan, Australia -- lots of plans and daydreams about going places and seeing things. Now I watch Travel Channel on my nice TV and I am grateful my feet don't hurt from all that walking, and I don't have to worry about finding a clean restroom in some out of the way place. I've been to places like that. I don't care to go back.

Now I am perfectly happy to be right here, in Atlanta, in my own messy old house, doing pretty much exactly what I want all day. Yes, caretaking can be really tiresome, some days, but most days now I am pretty content. I wish I had more money, but I don't want to spend 80% of my waking life at an office slaving away for people who don't care if I live or die, who view me simply as a cog in the wheel. (I used to work where my friend works, still, and I know what type of place it is. Stress City.) In that instance, I would have more money but less time to spend it.

No, I can go outside and take a photo of beauty that's right in my back yard, like the shots below, and marvel at how beautiful Atlanta is in the early spring. I love watching the robins and cardinals in my back yard. I wouldn't trade walking Lola and chatting with neighbors for walking city streets where drunks feel free to pee right in front of me. No thanks.

January 17, 2018

Snow is very rare here. Although we got less than in inch of snow last night, all the schools in the metro area are closed, and everyone is staying home. The road in front of my house is clearing off in the sunshine but the HIGH today is going to be 30 and there are a lot of icy patches. Slush will freeze overnight, making it likely nobody will go anywhere tomorrow morning either. However, the high tomorrow is going to be in the 40's so this will all be gone by tomorrow evening I feel sure.

December 07, 2017

I just realize I have not posted in a while. The past ten days have been a bit challenging.

Brother came in for Thanksgiving with a cold. He gave it to me. I gave it to Mom. Brother is now well. I am about 75% well. Mom is about 50% well and still coughing. Fortunately, we have a home health nurse coming in to check on Mom and she came a couple of days ago. Mom's chest was clear, no fever, and oxygen level was good. No need to haul her to the doctor, thanks be to God. Mom has a yucky cough which worried me.

Anyway, being a caretaker to an elderly person when all you want to do is curl up on the sofa and do nothing is.... a bit of a challenge. When I get a cold my voice gets very hoarse and I tend to sound like a demented gnome -- with drill sergeant tendencies when I talk to Mom because I have to talk LOUD so she can hear me.

The house is decorated for Christmas and 90% of the gifts are bought. Lola has not wagged all the ornaments off the tree, but she is trying. Putting it right in front of the french doors is why -- she likes to look out and bark at anyone in our yard, and Michael, when he's coming home from work, and squirrels, and the neighbor's cat who likes to swish around the front patio and torture her...

I try to get presents under the tree as quickly as possible every year, because it cuts down on ornament loss due to her running under the tree.

This year I made a gift for a family member that took some time. Not a huge amount of time, but enough to make it a project. Two of my cousins helped me with it. I will try to get it mailed off today or tomorrow.

We are supposed to get SNOW tomorrow. Yes, you read that right. I suspect we will see flurries but no accumulation because the ground is warm and the high will be 38 degrees. Still, just the word snow makes me want to jump in the car and go buy bread and milk. Kroger will be crazy today.

On a happy note, The Georgia Bulldogs are the SEC CHAMPS! Woo hoo! I was hollering the other day when we beat Auburn for the championship. On New Years Day my fanny will be parked in front of the TV watching the Rose Bowl. UGA fans and alumni are already booking flights. Not me. I like to sit on my sofa and watch games.

I didn't used to get too excited about football, but my southern heritage is kicking in. Here's how I know I am an old white southern lady now:

Every summer I grow tomatoes. Tons of them. I don't even like tomatoes. I feel compelled to grow them, however.

I get really excited watching SEC football games featuring the Georgia Bulldogs -- I am an alumni, as are my parents, my aunts and uncles and some cousins..

At Christmas I like to get my tree up, presents under there, and baking started no later than December 5th. It might snow a little bit and cause the city to shut down, so Christmas has to be done before that possible crisis.

I baked Rocks the other day. You can find the recipe here. Nothing makes the house smell so good as those savory cookies. They are the Family Cookie.

I am contemplating getting Lola a Christmas stocking. She needs a new leash and she can always use treats. (That may not be a Southern thing but so be it..)

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I have friends and family in California in the path of those horrible wildfires. Please say a prayer for them. I am concerned.

November 26, 2017

We had a great holiday, but it was just our little family. That's okay. I didn't stress out about the food. Honeybaked Ham supplied the turkey and ham, and we were all fine with that. Roasting an enormous turkey is wasted on our family because we all just see turkey as an accompaniment to the dressing.

We almost had pork roast, but in the end I decided thawing it out and then roasting it all day was too much trouble. Sending Mike to Honeybaked was much easier.

I made dressing and gravy, and sauteed spinach. [Bruce brought in a bag of spinach from Costco which was as big as a 20 lb. bag of dog food!] I pre-made a big bowl of mashed potatoes, then forgot to warm them for the meal. I made pumpkin and pecan pies -- which didn't last long. Instead of leaving the pecans whole, I ground them up. That allowed Mom to eat a piece of pie without worrying about chewing the pecans.

I have joined a Facebook group for people who like to cook and everyone was posting about how to cook turkey. I suggested they all just go to Honeybaked Ham. I am sort of waiting for them to kick me out of the group... LOL

Mother has had a long road to recover from the ordeal of being in the hospital and then the rehab place. When she came home from rehab she had impacted bowels. Just within the last 2-3 weeks she has finally started feeling pretty normal again, thank goodness. Walking is still a challenge. The big news is that with Bruce here to help, she went down the two steps into the family room, then up the two steps into the kitchen, and ate with us in the kitchen. She used her rolling walker to get across the family room floor.

Our house was built in 1968 and the family room floor is "sunken" -- Bruce built a step in between the floor and made one big step into two small ones, years ago. It helps Mom -- two little steps are easier for her than one big one.

IN OTHER NEWS...

Michael has started a new job working at Firehouse Subs in Tucker, as a cashier. He didn't have to work on Thanksgiving, thank goodness.

I have had a hard time sleeping with the heat on in the house but I have found a solution. I put a dab of Vick's VapoRub just inside my nose before bed. Keeps the nasal passages open so my throat doesn't dry out from mouth breathing.

My garage door opener decided to stop working. I called my neighbor who is a handyman, about fixing it. Hoping he can give me an estimate this week and it doesn't involve replacing the entire door opener.

I got all my Christmas decorating done on Thanksgiving except for the outside of the house. The pre-lit tree we bought years ago? Only a few of the lights still work. Had to buy a new strand of lights at CVS on Thanksgiving Day because Bruce had to go back and it's easier doing the tree with his help, because he's tall. There are no lights at the very top of tree but I refuse to stress about it..

September 20, 2017

It never occurred to me when I started blogging in 2005 that my little blog would resonate and reach a wide audience for years and years, but just in the past few days I have been reminded of the power of the blog.

I was contacted by one of my Hasty cousins the other day, a man named Gordon. He had come across one of my blog entries related to the Hastys. (My mother's father was Bob Hasty, a much loved and important person in my early childhood, gone too soon in 1972.) This cousin was the grandson of one of my grandfather's brothers, I thought. After I checked my genealogy notes on the Hastys I realized I was wrong. Gordon isn't a second cousin, he's more like a 5th cousin. That's fine. I still claim him. Our great great great grandfathers were siblings. I wasn't able to tell him much about his branch of the family, but another cousin emailed him and told him more.

Genealogy can be awfully dry and boring if you just consider the birth and death dates and know a few facts about the person. What makes it fascinating is when you find out stories about the ancestors. Then it comes alive.

For instance, one of my Hasty ancestors was a Confederate "sharpshooter" [sniper] in the Civil War. My brother is a shooting enthusiast, and often enters competitions. He works for a company that sells guns to the public and to police departments across South Carolina. Is it in our genes? Who knows.

Another fun fact, the Civil War divided the Hasty family, as it did so many families. Here's what my cousin Jan, the family historian, said:

Marcus Hasty with his daughters, Emeline and Sarah are buried with their husbands at Long Swamp Baptist Church Cemetery, Tate, Georgia. Marcus died in 1862. He and Emeline I know were strong Union supported while John T Hasty with his oldest Son, William Pinkney Hasty and his brother in law, Thomas Nelson were in the Confederate Army on the way to Vicksburg, MS.

From what Fred Hasty(grandson of Jesse Ervin Hasty) told me, Nancy Arminda Jones Hasty was half Cherokee. She would get Marcus to take her to Oklahoma to visit her family in the summer. They had been on the Trail of Tears [Nancy's family members]. I don't know how many years they did this. Marcus was in the War of 1812.

There is reason to believe that a couple of my ancestors were Cherokee girls who married white men. My uncle told me that was pretty common in North Georgia in the 19th century. Did they marry to keep from being removed and sent out west? Who knows. It's a fascinating question, though.

As a side note, I have written an article for Georgia Backroads magazine about a local man's search for the lost Cherokee Removal fort, Fort Buffington, in Cobb County, Georgia. Some of my Butler ancestors helped the government remove the Cherokee, and it's likely some of the Cherokee were related to me as well. [Not sure if my article will be in the Winter 2018 or Spring 2018 edition, but it's a terrific magazine.]

History can be complicated.

Another reader of my blog emailed me about a post I did a few years ago, Mesothelioma Awareness Day. This year it's on the 26th of September, which is next Tuesday. It's an important issue, because so many people have been exposed to asbestos and don't realize the health consequences.

It's mind-boggling to me to ponder how many things in our environment [lead, asbestos, even secondhand smoke] we have been exposed to in the past hundred years or so. People exposed to asbestos may face scary challenges. As we become more aware of the toxins all around us, I hope and pray we can learn how to detect and avoid all those things. How many folks have died because of exposure to things like that?

Those of us in the United States are fortunate to have [relatively] clean air and drinking water. Other countries are not so fortunate.

I wonder how many miscarriages and birth defects are caused by environmental factors? China is one of the most polluted countries in the world, and many babies are born missing limbs and/or with serious organ defects because of exposure to pollutants in the air and water. I have long wondered if there is an environmental cause for autism. I don't think it's vaccines. I do think it's likely something in the environment we just haven't figure out yet, though.

above, my great-grandfather William Dozier Hasty [a man my brother looks a lot like] and my great grandmother Virginia McMillan Hasty, parents of Bob Hasty. W.D. Hasty was named for his uncle, William Dozier Hasty, son of Marcus and Nancy Hasty

August 28, 2017

For most of the month of August I have been dealing with a nasty virus, and now on top of the lingering effects of that I am dealing with an ear/sinus infection. I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago and she did a thorough exam [noting the stopped up ears] and drew 5 vials of blood. She called me the next day and said "You have a virus."

Great.

No medications for me.

That was two weeks ago. I have been diligent about eating right, walking, drinking tons of water, etc. Last week I felt pretty good until Friday night and then the ear infection hit, and I felt horrible. Headache, drippy nose, ears hurting, sore throat, etc.

Today I spent most of the day on the couch. My sweet neighbors walked Lola for me, and another neighbor picked up the prescriptions my doctor called in. Thank God we have such wonderful neighbors. I am truly blessed.

Michael and my cousin Lesleigh have visited with Mother, although today they were working and I was miserably sick all day, so she didn't get any visitors, which I hate.

I'm hoping that once the medications kick in, within 48 hours I will feel much better. Lord knows I couldn't feel much worse.

I unearthed this old photo of my parents the other day and thought it was worth scanning in because they both look happy and relaxed. On the back, Mom wrote May 15, 1987 "Over the Atlantic" -- it was her first trip to Europe. She and Dad were going to see my brother, who had been stationed in Germany. He was an Army Captain. Right before they left -- like, on the way to the airport -- Dad made Mom stop at his office and sign an update Will. He was a wills and estates trust banker so he thought of that. Timing was bad. Mom hates to fly. However, they had a great time, and Mom, who is not good with languages, loved communicating with the Germans in pantomime. I'm sure they thought she was the funniest American they'd ever run across..

UPDATE:

Started taking my medicine yesterday and I feel a lot better today [8/29]. Still not 100% -- about 50%, and still need a lot of rest, but an improvement over yesterday, for sure.